Wednesday, November 30, 2022

The Wabbit and St Andrews Day.

Lapinette saw the Wabbit standing by the lighthouse gate, and she jumped in the air and touched him with her paws. He looked wistful so she tried to cheer him up. "Come on Wabbit, it's St Andrews." The Wabbits were in Galloway for the occasion and somehow especially in Galloway the vote never went right. "I'm pining for my country," said the Wabbit. "Oh," said Lapinette, "They'll come to their senses soon." The Wabbit shrugged. For two pins he would rally all the rabbits at his disposal and march on London at that very moment. Lapinette knew what he was thinking. "That wouldn't be wise, Wabbit. It's not how things are done at the minute." The Wabbit grunted. Lapinette laughed. "Look, I got you a bottle of Laphroaig." The Wabbit cheered up immediately. It was his favourite whisky. "There's haggis and all sorts," she grinned. "Is there shortbread?" The Wabbit wanted a bit of comfort. She paused. "Yes, there is. And there's plenty of time for worrying about votes but not now." The Wabbit was definitely cheered. "There's Helensburgh tablet too. I made it myself." Lapinette pirouetted. "Isn't your Uncle the Chief of Galloway?" The Wabbit made a face. "Aye he is. He's quite old and maybe he's even dead." Just then, he heard a distant cry. "I'm no deid yet! Not by a long shot." The Wabbit started to laugh. "Come away in tae the body of the kirk, Uncle Chief." The Chief's voice got closer. "Wabbit, is that yer wee wifie?" Lapinette stifled a giggle and shouted back. "No sae wee as ye think."